Last night as we were putting Little Red to bed and the concert was booming through the walls, Little Red said, “it’s my song, Mummy. It’s my go-to-sleep song.” Maybe if he can be so optimistic about it (we’ve come a long way from when the music would give him nightmares) then maybe I can endure this, too.
This morning as Early Bird was having some tummy time, Little Red lay down beside him. “Wake up, Little Brother, wake up!” he said, holding Early Bird’s hand. It’s not the most profound thing he’s ever said, but it was really sweet to me.